


Living

by littlemiss_m



Series: HOME, a series [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dad!Cor, Depression, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Living With Depression, M/M, Talking about sexuality, ace!cor, bi!prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 19:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16919298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemiss_m/pseuds/littlemiss_m
Summary: It's Pride month in Insomnia. Prompto keeps on living, while Cor learns something new about himself.





	Living

**Author's Note:**

> So uhhhh first of all, just let me say that this series IS still over, I've just got this one last piece I've been holding onto for a long while now. I first started it this summer, when it was Pride week/month, but it got too angsty so I stopped writing it. I finished it during Ace Awareness week some months later, but never got around to posting it. Now, I'm posting it as a small pre-holiday treat, so I hope you'll all enjoy it <3 
> 
> Though I didn't start posting this series till later in the spring, January will mark my one-year anniversary in this fandom and I'm just so, so, SO thankful for the warm welcome and all the loving words you've left me since then. Many thanks to all my readers, that I have continued writing ffxv fic for this long as all on you <3
> 
> This fic takes place during the summer after Prompto's hospitalization, before his and Noctis' last year of high school.

Prompto tries his best to keep from picking favorites between Cor and Clarus, but there are things he'd rather do with one and then things he'd rather leave for the other, and so it goes. Shopping is one of these things, mostly because the Amicitias are just too ridiculous with their money and spending habits; Jared does their grocery shopping for them, and it shows. They're nice people but they're also _rich_ people, and as much as Prompto loves them and Jared's very extragavant cooking, it's still a whole new world he's only just getting used to.

Cor, on the other hand, is normal in a way Prompto appreciates. He does his own shopping and cooks his own foods, and though there's no actual need for him to live frugally, he still spends his money with a casual kind of prudence; Cor shops like Prompto used to do, back when he still lived on his father's money and their carefully planned-out budgets, only _he_ doesn't need to choose price over quality. They don't really talk much about Cor's early childhood, the days before Crownsguard and road trips to preserve peace in the world, but Prompto knows Cor grew up significantly poorer than he did and in a way, that tiny kernel of knowledge is enough: in this way, they are similar. It's something Noctis and the Amicitias will likely never understand and though Prompto doesn't hold their upbringing over them, well, it's still nice to have someone who gets it.

* * *

It's summer and the streets are full of lightly-clothed people smiling and laughing with their friends, and the cheer is almost infectuous. When Prompto gets out of Cor's car outside their usual grocery store, he can't help grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet; despite everything that's been going on in his life lately, the sight of Insomnia in the first weeks of summer holidays is just too thrilling to pass by. Cor looks at him and huffs, a soft sound that pulls dimples on his cheeks, and Prompto smiles even wider.

”Give it a day or two and you'll be complaining about the heat,” Cor says, nudging Prompto's arm to steer him forward. ”Or maybe it'll start raining, you could whine about that instead.”

Prompto puffs his cheeks in indignation and crosses the sidewalk, pausing to wait for Cor who gets caught behind a young mother and her baby carriage, and then he's standing awkwardly by the foor while Cor digs his pockets for a coin so he can grab one of the carts.

It's cool inside the store, almost too chilly to Prompto, whose thin long-sleeved shirt was bordering on too hot under the summer sun. Rubbing his arms, he follows Cor past the shelves of shampoos and toothpastes, only stopping to grab a bottle of bodywash. At the fruit and vegetable section, Cor fills a thin plastic bag with bright red tomatoes and Prompto just watches him, leaning against the cart; when Cor goes through the selection, he looks at the tomatoes instead of the prize tags hanging up above him, and for some reason, Prompto feels warm inside. It's something he's still only getting used to, the security of knowing he'll never again have to worry about money. Safety feels like a little prickle at the bottom of his stomach, an itch not unlike the giddy anticipation of unpacking a new game.

The grocery list is long and it takes them some time to get everything, boneless chicken breasts for a stir-fry and a good pile of ground beef for some freezer chili. Staples still run out all ot once so they scour the store for flour and salt and sugar, as well as bags of beans and lentils, some spices and dried fruits. Eventually, they end up between the newly rearranged candy shelves, looking for Cor's favorite brand of chocolate that used to sit on the shelf now occupied by candy-coated chewing gum packets. Prompto allows his gaze to wander across the shelves and stands, only stopping when he spots a large crate full of rainbow-colored wrappers.

”Huh,” he murmurs, moving closer to explore the crate. They're chocolate bars, slightly larger than his palm, wrapped in the colorful stripes of various pride flags; grinning, Prompto grabs one with the rainbow flag, then after a moment of hesitation chooses the pink-and-purple bi flag.

”Oh, is that time of the year again?”

Prompto looks up at the sound of Cor's voice and grins, nodding. ”Yup!” he answers, showing off the two chocolate bars. ”One for me and one for my _boyfriend_!”

The whole boyfriend thing is still new enough to make his heart flutter in a way that's not very different from his usual bouts of anxiety, but that also makes his face warm in a very nice way. Cor rolls his eyes at him and throws the two chocolate bars into the cart, though he, too, is smiling fondly. ”And how's that going?” he asks, smirking a little as he begins to herd Prompto towards the cashiers.

The question flusters Prompto even further and he wrings his hands, ducking his head shyly. ”Really good,” he says, still blushing bright and warm. It's not a lie; things are going well between him and Noctis, now that they've had the time to have those important discussions delayed by his long hospitalization. ”It's – it's really good.”

Cor looks at him, then, and the smile on his face suddenly seems that much more genuine. ”That's good to hear,” he says, then stalls and dips his chin towards the magazine stands. ”Hey, grab me the newest _Swordsmen_ , I haven't read that one yet.”

”You could just order it, get it delivered to your door,” Prompto grumbles, rolling his eyes. He gets the magazine all the same.

* * *

Afterwards, they get back in the car and drive towards one of the shopping streets to pick up a piece of camera equipment Prompto ordered online. The lense is a new one, only just hitting the stores right now, and he's so excited to hold it he can't resist ripping open the clear tape holding the cardboard box shut. Carefully, almost reverently, he pulls the plastic-wrapped lense out of the box and unwraps the protective layers, gasping when he sees the gleaming-new black plastic.

He's so focused on examining the lense he doesn't notice the car stop until he hears Cor speak next to him. ”Those things just keep on multiplying, huh,” the man murmurs, and it takes Prompto a moment to pull himself back into the moment.

They're waiting at a red light on one of the larger streets in the shopping district. It's the same road that all parades walk down, usually starting at the Citadel and ending in the Founder King Memorial Park, and the preparations for the Pride parade are already well underway. Strings of colorful flags crisscross the sky above the road, hanging from the tall buildings on both sides; Prompto looks up at them and feels the first squirm of trepiditation in his belly.

”Um,” he murmurs, suddenly nervous and unable to think of anything to say. ”Um?”

It takes a split second before Cor notices his nerves and curses. ”Aww, shit, kid, I didn't mean it like _that_ ,” he says, driving the car forward as the traffic shifts forward at the green light. ”It's just – it feels like there's always something new every year, yeah? I mean, uh, I figure these people have always existed, but I'm pretty sure I haven't seen half of those flags before.”

Prompto swallows and lets out a relieved exhale. ”Yeah,” he says, still not entirely recovered, ”I guess it'd look like that, huh?”

Cor barks a laugh and Prompto joins in, though he doesn't really have anything to say, so it's Cor who continues a moment later when they stop at another red light. ”Like that green flag,” he says, gazing upwards at the little paper flags flapping softly above them, ”never seen that one before.”

Prompto looks up until he finds the flag in question, though he's already pretty sure he knows the one Cor is referring to. ”That's the aro flag,” he says, glancing questoningly at Cor who shrugs one shoulder. ”It's, uh, short for aromantic? For a person who's not interested in a romantic relationship at all.”

He stumbles through the explanation, not entirely sure he's got it down perfectly, but Cor doesn't have much a reaction; he shrugs a second time, looking a bit unsure or confused. ”It's a bit like asexual?” Prompto tries, glancing up at the flags. ”That's the one with purple and gray. Aces are, uh, interested in romantic relationships but not sex? Or at least sometimes. Or to an extend. I don't know.”

The moment is so short it passes almost unnoticed by Prompto, who looks away from Cor when he should be looking at him, but a passerby with a fluffy dog catches his attention and that's that. By the time he glances at Cor, the man is stiff but coming out of it and though Prompto does notice something being off just so, it's not enough to make him latch onto it. Cro grunts – he's heard Prompto's words but has nothing else to say – and drives off, and next to him, Prompto returns to twiddling with the lense.

* * *

Later on, when Prompto's sitting in his room trying to go through his homework, he keeps on returning to the moment. He sits down at his desk and looks at a picture of the time zones and suddenly it's all clear in his head, the flags and the moment and Cor, but now that he's finally put his finger down on the issue he can't figure out if he should talk to Cor about it or not. The pile of school books by his left arm doesn't help him, the task gargantuous enough to dampen his mood almost dangerously low; an entire school year's worth of studies in one summer is no easy task, not even after testing out of math, physics, and chemistry.

Breathing slowly, Prompto closes his eyes and leans his head on his hands. The schoolwork is making him upset so it's time to take a break; the Cor thing is still hanging in the air, but it's not an issue he can decide on his own so he doesn't. Prompto holds his breath and closes the geography book, sticking a piece of paper between the pages to mark his place.

Like he suspected, he finds Cor in the living room where the man sits on the sofa, the newest issue of _Swordsmen_ open on his lap. It's been almost two hours but he's not even halfway through the magazine, and when Prompto closes the door to his room, he sees Cor slide something under the glossy pages.

For a moment, he stands in the hallway, unsure. Cor doesn't seem any different than usual, though, so he steps across the hallway, only to hover in the grand arch of the doorway. ”Reading a bit slowly today,” he comments carefully.

This time it's Cor who takes a moment. He looks at Prompto, long and stone-faced, then leans his head back against the couch and sighs. ”Didn't realize there was a word for it,” he says, shaking his head. ”Didn't realize there was a _need_ to have a word for it.”

He closes the _Swordsmen_ and reveals his phone, the screen black but glossy with fingerprints, and when he taps down on a button it lights up in a very spacific shade of purple and gray. Prompto doesn't know what to say to Cor's comments so he walks closer, until he's standing behind Cor and the couch, and when he still doesn't have words he rests his hands on the backrest, where his fingers brush the warm fabric on Cor's shoulders.

”Is, um,” Prompto tries, stumbling to find something to say, ”is – is everything okay?”

Cor sighs and tilts his head back to look at Prompto. He's smiling. ”Everything's still good, kid,” he says softly, reaching to squeeze Prompto's fingers with one hand. ”Everything's good.”

Prompto thinks back to the first time he – very carefully, very casually – mentioned maybe being bi in front of his friends. ”So are you, uh–” he asks, cutting himself off, and Cor lets go of his hand.

”I'm asexual,” he says, firm and knowing in a way Prompto himself hasn't quite reached yet, ”always have been. Just didn't know there was a word for it, other than career-orientated recluse.”

He rolls his eyes and there's not a hint of pain or regret in his voice. Prompto's shoulders drop and he realizes just how tense he was. ”There's a word for a lot of things, now,” he says, because he still doesn't know what the right words are. Cor continues to smile but soon the gentleness melts into a weary sigh and he picks up the phone, sweeping across text on a pale gray background.

”Here's Amethyst999, who's sixty-four years old and who always thought she was broken because she didn't enjoy sex,” he says, and Prompto's stomach somersaults painfully. ”Then there's badbedbug who is seventeen and whose girlfriend thinks _him_ broken because he doesn't enjoy sex.”

Cor looks up at Prompto who shifts on his feet, unable to face him eye-to-eye. ”It's never been like that to me, Prompto,” he says quietly. ”I've always been who I am. I never needed a word for it because I didn't think there was anything different about me. Now I have a word which tells me there are others like me, but for me, personally? It doesn't change anything.”

Prompto feels like crying. It's not about Cor, he thinks, but the entire day, his depression taking the smallest things and making them large as icebergs. Somewhere between the morning and the now the day turned into a bad one and now he's left trying to cope with it at what's very possibly the worst possible time. ”I wasn't sure if I should talk to you,” he croaks. ”Because – in the car, I didn't realize it, but then afterwards I thought if I maybe should...”

His words stop making sense so he stops speaking as well. Cor, with his head craned over the backrest, looks at him and reaches for his hand once more. ”Everything's good, kid,” he says softly, almost too gently. ”I was a bit shocked, sure, but at the end of the day, it doesn't change a thing in my life. I've got friends and a pretty decent son who all accept me for what I am, and that's all I need anyways.”

The words bring a soft huff through Prompto's sniffles, twist his lips into a smile. ”Here I was thinking I was a pretty darn _good_ son, letting you sleep in in the mornings like a little baby, but–”

Cor cuts him off by rapping his knuckles against Prompto's hand. ”Hey,” he says, a lot less offended than he actually sounds, but soon his expression softens again. ”You okay, kid? Something troubling you?”

Prompto shrugs, swallowing around his tongue. ”Just – a shit day, I guess,” he says, flinching when Cor's eyes immediately sharpen. ”Homework's a lot and then. Just. I don't know.”

It's not really the best explanation of the way he suddenly feels like everything is caving in on him, but he doesn't have any other words for it either, and so he doesn't react when Cor hums and continues to watch him carefully, thoughtfully, like he might be a moment away from another breakdown. Prompto himself is fairly sure he's not, that this is just a really bad day between two strings of – normal ones, he has to admit, neither good nor bad, but then again he knows enough about both these things and himself that he can't deny the possibility of this being the beginning of a darker time.

So it is what it is and Prompto shrugs, looks away from Cor, who sighs and shifts on the sofa so he doesn't have to look around his shoulder anymore. ”About time we started thinking about dinner, yeah?” he says, nodding towards the kitchen, and Prompto can only repeat the motion as he rubs furiously at his eyes. They aren't wet, not yet, but they prickle and burn all the same.

”Yeah,” he murmurs, ”that'd be nice.”

Cor gets up with a smile and claps Prompto's shoulder, leading him to the kitchen. Working together like this feels natural, already, and it's still something Prompto takes a moment to appreciate every time they stand in the kitchen side-by-side. While Cor prepares the chicken, Prompto mixes the batter, then moves on to the sauce and the veggies. The work is easy enough that it doesn't require much thinking, doesn't worsen his anxiety by giving him issues to stress over, but at the same time it distracts him from the hollow ache in his chest. By the time he's done chopping the bell peppers and the mushrooms, Cor is already frying the batter-covered chicken chunks, and Prompto suddenly feels a lot more human.

”Were you thinking about seeing Noctis tonight or something?” Cor asks after a moment, startling Prompto who almost drops the two bowls he's carrying over to the table. It takes Prompto a moment to realize there's a reference in the question, but soon he answers by shaking his head.

”Tomorrow, maybe,” he says, setting down the bowls and doubling back for drinking glasses and utensils. ”He's got something with his dad tonight, and tomorrow morning's he's supposed to be at some meeting about – oh, but you're gonna be there too, aren't you?”

It hits him halfway through the sentence that since Noctis' meeting has to do with planning the Crown's attendance at the Pride parade, then it's most likely a meeting Cor has to show up to. Prompto sneaks a look at Cor, who nods and stirs in the sauce.

”I hear Noctis is supposed to give a speech this year,” he comments, almost too idle, and Prompto hesitates for half a second before nodding.

”Yeah,” he says, ”he's, uh, he's gonna come out. In public. Like pretty much everyone already knows he's into dudes, but with, uh, all the photos going around about the two of us–”

Cor laughs and reaches over to smack his shoulder. ”Breathe, kid,” he says, and Prompto dissolves into nervous giggles. ”I did figure it was something like that – it's not like I haven't seen you boys, mind you.”

The way he stresses the word 'seen' immediately brings an utterly embarrassed blush to Prompto's face, who recalls the time Cor caught him and Noctis snogging in what was _supposed_ to have been a quiet spot in the Citadel gardens. Too flustered to speak up, Prompto turns to cleaning up his veg prepping station from the dining table. For a beat, there is nothing but silence and the sizzle of chicken cubes cooking in hot oil.

”Is the chocolate for him?” Cor asks eventually, over the whoosh of steam that billows from the pan the second he pours in the sauce. The way he poses the question is careful somehow, enough to give Prompto pause where he is now rinsing the cupboard under hot water. Cor's looking at him from the corner of his eye, face still turned down towards the pan, and just like that, Prompto understands the awkwardness and the quiet hesitation.

”He's gay,” he eventually repeats. He shuts off the faucet and grabs a towel that's hanging on one of the door handles. That Noctis is into men really isn't a secret anymore, but Prompto's fairly sure this isn't about Noctis anyways.

His suspicions are confirmed when Cor shifts his weight from one foot to the other while holding onto his breath, chin tipped up towards the ceiling. Prompto is very succinctly reminded of the fact that for all his good sides, Cor is not a talker. Muffling a little giggle with the back of his hand, Prompto opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by Cor.

”So you're bi?” Cor asks, heaving a deep sigh that sounds like it comes all the way from his toes. He sounds and looks more embarrassed than uncomfortable, but something pleasant squirms at the bottom of Prompto's stomach all the same. Despite all the awkwardness between them, he's just pleased to have someone who actually cares for him, who wants to know about him for reasons other than control or surveillance. This has all been a good few years in the making, now, yet more often than not, Prompto _still_ catches himself marveling at his new life.

”Uuh, yeah,” Prompto drawls out. He moves past Cor to collect their diningware from one of the cabinets. ”I'm, like, 99% sure anyways.”

”Huh.” Cor mulls over the words for the time it takes Prompto to lay the stack of plates on the countertop, then shrugs and tosses the last of the vegetables on the pan. ”Guess that's that's that, then.”

It's not – not really, because that little 1% still exists – but Prompto's been mulling over the matter for so long he hardly dares care any more. He sets the table and grabs the leftovers of the previous day's salad from the fridge, then slaps two potholders on the table when he sees Cor turn off the stoves. The rice cooker beeps a moment later, a two-second long tone that cuts off abruptly as soon as Cor reaches for the machine. The dance is familiar and polished, perfected over months and months of living and eating together, but still Prompto feels a surge of casual if pleasant warmth as he gets to his seat.

Sitting down, Prompto catches a glimpse of the _Swordsmen_ lying on the coffee table in the living room. The resulting smile is small on his face yet it comes from somewhere very deep, growing brighter as he recalls his earlier upset and the frustration over his homework. There's still a lot for him to do, but – he catches Cor's eyes across the table and ducks his head, thinks about Noctis and the chocolates, the warming summer around them. He'll take a nap after they've eaten, sleep away the sudden wave of tiredness – though the food is already chasing away some of the slump, as is the knowledge he'll soon be visiting Noctis.

It's not the most perfect day, but, well – he'll take it all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it <3 For the time being, I'm still @missymoth over at tumblr!


End file.
